Grow Old With You
by servingsarcasm
Summary: And as the years pass by them, they'll look back and know it was worth it. / Puckleberry Future-fic.


**Title: **Grow Old With You

**Pairings: **Rachel/Puck/Puckleberry

**Length: **One-shot.

**A/N:** Ayyy more swag. Title is from the song "Grow Old With You" from _Wedding Singer._

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* * *

_

"I hope you know, now that we are an item, that you are required to hold my hand at all times in the hallway." Rachel Berry sat cross-legged on her obnoxiously pink bed next to a lounging Puck.

He tossed a plush football into the air, blowing an exaggerated breath through his lips. "No way, Berry."

"I'm very serious, Noah," she affirmed to him, drawing out a notepad from behind her pillow.

"Oh my _God_, not the fucking notebook again."

"I'm just planning, Noah. And _please _watch your language. Do not use that tone with me," she firmly told him, scribbling notes in her neon green notepad. "I know it's embarrassing for you to be seen with me at school, okay, I get it." At that, Puck sat up from the bed, exasperated, putting both of his hand on each of her hips. In one swift move, she was flush against him. He kissed her sweetly and took her small hand in his, lightly touching his lips to her knuckles.

"I'll hold your hand all day long if I have to, baby, okay?"

Rachel melted, nodding deliriously. "Okay."

"Now put the damn notebook away."

* * *

"Noah, can you believe it?" Rachel asked, twirling around their brand new apartment in Manhattan. It was small and quaint, but had a subtle charm about it.

"Oh, I believe it, Rach. I looked at the price." He mumbled, sitting down on the hardwood floor that would be their future living room.

"And this will be our room," he grinned, happily watching her flit from one room to the next. "And the bathroom, of course, and this will be the guest room slash our future child's room, and-"

"Whoa, hold up Rachel. What did you just say?" Puck asked her. She came from the back of the apartment and sat down next to him.

"Our future child. You know, the one we'll have after we're married and I've done a couple of Broadway shows and have gained a couple of Tonys, perhaps."

Puck sighed, relieved. "I thought that was a subtle way of telling me I knocked you up." He paused. "Not that I wouldn't be happy that I…knocked you up."

"Well, as you put it so eloquently, I am not 'knocked up'." She told him, kissing him softly on the lips.

She then turned, pulling a small green notebook out of her bag. "…But I have thought of baby names, just in case."

"My _God_, woman."

* * *

Puck swore to himself he would never cry. He didn't cry when his dad left. He didn't cry when his baby sister was born. And he sure as hell didn't cry when they shaved the 'hawk. There was something in his eye. Seriously.

But he's not that boy anymore. He's standing before his family and friends, dressed in his best suit, just waiting.

And then there she is. And sweet Lord is she gorgeous. What did he ever do to deserve this moment? She's got bother dads on her arm, and she's tearing up, and to make matters worse, he's already got a fucking tear halfway down his cheek.

And he doesn't even care.

* * *

"If you do not change this damn channel, I swear," Puck muttered, looking over at Rachel surrounded by tissues. She was watching some sappy movie on Lifetime, the remote resting precariously on her five-month-pregnant belly.

"Shut _up_, Noah," she admonished, swiping another Kleenex.

"Babe, please, the game is on." No response. Clearly not getting through to her, he took a piece of popcorn from the bowl on his lap, throwing it in her direction. She fell for it, looking for it in the couch cushions, while he snatched the remote.

"Noah!" She squealed, jumping up. "Give me that back, now."

"Sorry babe. Look, our team is up," he tried to distract her. She huffed, sitting back down on the couch. Just as she did, she let out an audible gasp.

Noah was immediately at her side. "What's wrong? Is it the baby?"

Rachel didn't speak, just slowly shook her head, taking his hand and placing it on her stomach. It was silent for a moment, but then he felt it, a swift kick right to his palm.

"Wow, that's…that's amazing." Suddenly, his vision was cloudy and he turned, wiping furiously at his eyes.

"It's okay to cry, Noah, it's a beautiful thing," she whispered, reaching her arm around his back. She quickly grasped the remote and turned the movie back on. Noah glared at her, eyes narrowed.

She smirked at him, winking, "And so is victory."

* * *

"This shit is so gay," Puck exclaimed, slipping on his t-shirt. He was standing in the bathroom of his mother's house, while Rachel was scrambling around his old bedroom trying to find her other heel.

"Shh, Noah. This is your sister's graduation. There is nothing 'gay' about it, in your sense of the word," she scolded. "And would you _please _put on the sweater I bought you." She then turned to their ten-month-old son, slipping on a short-sleeved sweater over his polo.

"Could you stop dressing him in your fruity outfits, Berry? He needs a football jersey or _something_," Puck complained, going through the suitcase they brought.

Rachel smacked his hand away, growling, "He looks fine in whatever I dress him in, thank you very much." She picked up the baby and bounced him on her hip. "You like your sweaters, don't ya Luke?" The baby laughed and clapped his hands.

"Not fair, you're bouncing him like a damn basketball. Give him to me," he demanded, putting his hands under the boy's arms, holding him straight out in front of him.

"Now tell me, son, what you really think of mommy's sweaters," he asked him. Luke immediately started shaking his head back and forth. Puck chuckled, tossing him in the air and then catching him.

"See, Rach? He wants some manly clothes. Get that football jersey out and let's go," he demanded, handing Luke back to her.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to control the steam that was about to blast out of her ears like a cartoon character. "I'm sorry, Noah. I _completely_ forgot the fact that you carried him for nine months; through the times he would sit on your bladder or almost put his feet through your ribs. And I must've also forgotten when you went through _eighteen hours_ of labor without any medication. So I'm sorry Noah, if the tiny, little sweater bothers you."

And that is how both Puck and Luke ended up wearing their sweaters to Sarah's graduation.

* * *

They were cuddled together on the couch, their feet resting on the coffee table and a beer in Puck's hand. Rachel had her green notebook open in her lap.

"Jaclyn," she said quickly.

"No."

"Heather."

"Eh, no."

"Emily."

"Nope."

"Sarah?"

"After my sister? Ha, no."

"Alexis."

"…No."

"Isabella."

"And Edward? Please no."

"Noah, you are being entirely too difficult with this! This is the third night we've done this, and you can't agree on _any_ names I give you!" Rachel yelled quietly, mindful that their three-year-old son was asleep upstairs.  
"Rach, the kid's not due for another five months," he told her, taking another sip of his beer.

"I know that Noah. But I want to name this baby now. With Luke, I let you do it your way. I thought it was cute how you were so excited for a boy, so I waited to name him until he was born because that's what _you _wanted," she reminded him, now pacing in front of the couch. "And do you remember what happened Noah? He was nameless for a week. _A week_!"

"Man, these hormones are starting early," he chuckled.

"_Noah!_" She almost screamed, stomping her foot.

He quickly got up from the couch and stood in front of her, taking her hands in his. "Okay babe, I'm sorry," he apologized, kissing her lightly on the nose. "Let's try again."

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment and then sighed, flipping open her notebook. "Lauren."

"No."

"Alyssa."

"No."

"Sophia."

He was quiet for a moment, causing Rachel to look up at him. He had a thoughtful look on his face. "I like it. Sophia. Sophie."

Rachel's face broke out in a smile as he bent down to meet her lips.

* * *

"She's so tiny," Puck commented, looking down at his newborn daughter. "Smaller than Luke was."

Rachel smiled drowsily, still exhausted from the delivery. "I know. She's just as beautiful though. Our little Sophia."

He smiled at his wife, and found himself once again thanking God for blessing him with this beautiful family.

* * *

"Mama pretty," Sophie said, as she looked up at Rachel in a long beautiful dress. Puck, clad in a suave tuxedo, came by and scooped up the tiny two-year-old.

"She is, isn't she princess?" He agreed, giving her a kiss on the cheek before handing her over to her Grandpa Hiram. "Almost done babe? The limo will be here in twenty minutes," he told her as her makeup artist and friend Sandra put on another coat of mascara.

"Just a few more minutes, Noah."

He sighed as Luke ran in with batter all over his clothes. "The cookies are done! Do you want some before you go to your thing mommy?"

Rachel smiled and shook her head sadly. "When you and Grandpa Leroy make some vegan cookies I promise I will."

"Okay," and then he scurried back out of the room.

"Okay Noah, I'm finally done." Puck looked up from where he was talking about football with Hiram on the sofa. Rachel was making her way out of the bedroom and all he could think…well, he couldn't even think. She was stunning.

"Holy…good God woman, you look smokin'." She smirked at her as she rolled her eyes.

"Thank you, Noah. You look handsome as well," he raised an eyebrow. "Ugh, fine. You look sexy as hell."

He laughed loudly and kissed her cheek, taking her hand. "Okay, babe. Let go kick some ass!"

* * *

"Noah, why are you squeezing my hand so hard? You do know I'm the one nominated, don't you?" She whispered as another award was presented.

"I'm just excited, okay. This could be a historic moment."

"I hope so," she smiled.

"And now, we have the nominees for the Best Actress in a Musical," the presenter announced. Rachel perked up, as did Puck. As they went through the nominees, Puck softly brushed his lips against her knuckles. Rachel turned to him and they stared at each other for a moment, the love between them in that instance blocking everything out.

The clapping brought them out of their reverie as several people touched Rachel's shoulder and said their congrats. She stood with her jaw open slightly as Noah embraced her tightly and whispered, "I always knew it'd happen," and kissing her temple.

She climbed the steps hastily and took the award swiftly and clutched it to her chest. Now time for her speech. _Oh my God._ Her speech! She left the paper at home! Noah must've realized the same thing because he was mouthing "wing it" from his seat.

"Wow. I can't even describe this feeling right now. My first Tony. I guess I kind of knew it would happen eventually. I want to thank so many people. My dads, who were my first and biggest fans. Every fan who every supported me. My glee club from high school, because although we didn't always get along, you were truly my real friends. My agent and friend Annie, who gave me a chance. My beautiful children, Luke and Sophie, for being the lights of my life. And finally Noah, my amazing husband. You _always _believed in me. You are _my_ star. Thank you all so much!" She kissed the Tony and then lifted it to the crowd as they happily cheered her on.

* * *

That Tony now sat on the mantle in their apartment, along with two others. Seven-year-old Sophie stared up at them adoringly.

"Mommy, when can I get one of those?" She asked sweetly.

"When you're older, sweetie. And after I've trained you a bit more," Rachel told her as she flicked through the channels on the TV. She hadn't been feeling well lately, so she took a couple days off to go to the doctor and recuperate before returning to her current show.

Just then, Puck burst through the door with a pizza box in his hand. "Honey, I'm home!" He called, causing both Rachel and Sophie to giggle. He dropped the food off on the table then came into the living room and kissing both Rachel and Sophie on the cheek.

"How are you feeling, babe?" He asked.

"A bit better," she admitted.

Just then the phone rang and Rachel hurried to the kitchen to answer it.

"So what did you learn today in school, pumpkin?" Puck asked his daughter before flopping on the couch and grabbing the remote.

"I learned how to write in cursive, daddy!" She exclaimed, then going back to her coloring book on the coffee table.

"That's great, princess. Where your brother?"

"Doing big boy stuff in his room. Well, that's what mommy said. I think he's playing video games."

Puck smirked. "That's my boy."

He heard footsteps from the kitchen and turned to see Rachel approaching. Her eyes were a little wide and her mouth was opening and closing slowly.

"Rach?"

"Noah…uh, I need to, um, talk to you in the kitchen."

He furrowed his eyebrows and shot off the couch, following her into the kitchen. "What is it babe? Who called?"

"It was the doctor."

"Is something wrong? Rachel, you're scaring me. Are you really sick or something?"

"Noah, I'm pregnant."

Silence.

"_What?_"

"I know, Noah. God, I'm so stupid. It was two months ago, after Annie and Matt's wedding reception. I knew it. I knew this was going to happen."

"Relax, Rach. Just…wow." Puck blew a breath through his lips, leaning back on the counter.

"I'm so sorry, Noah," she started blubbering. "I know we agreed that two was perfect and even if we did have more they'd be closer in age and I'm…I'm sorry."

Noah would've laughed if he didn't know how serious his wife was right now, apologizing for a result that took two people to make it happen. He reached for her arm and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head. "Rachel, stop apologizing. This is amazing. Another baby." He told her, wiping the tears off her cheeks as she sniffled.

"Oh God, I have to call my director. He's going to be so disappointed," she turned and scrambled for the phone. Puck sighed and reached for her arm again.  
"Rachel, stop. Just breathe for a second. Have dinner and just relax then we'll call and tell people, okay?"

She was quiet for a moment then nodded her head. "Okay." She smiled and walked hand-in-hand with him into the living room.

* * *

Here they were, once again, curled up on the couch again, Rachel's green notebook open and being scoured over.

"David."

"Nah."

"Addison."

"No."

"Gregory."

"No."

"William."

"God no."

"Li-"

"Hey wait! I got it." He turned to look at her. "I know we want to wait to find out the sex, but this name could go for both. I mean, this name defined my childhood." Rachel raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her bump, interested. He smiled triumphantly. "_Mario._"

"Noah!" She admonished, slapping his chest. "That's not funny."

He threw back his head and laughed.

* * *

And years later, when they're older and the kids are gone, they'll sit on that same couch and just hold each other close. They'll talk about how Luke owned his own business, or how Sophie was in her first Broadway production, and how Ava was an intern at some famous magazine.

They won't look back on their life and ever regret anything.

And when their little ones have their own little ones, they'll smile and think how far they've come. How everything was worth it. They'll even smile as their hair turns grey, and their hands begin to wrinkle, and they start to forget things, like the names of their old friends from glee, or where they put their keys.

And then when things get bad, and they're both too sick to leave the apartment, they'll cuddle up on that little sofa. And because she's too weak to say it, Rachel pulls out a small green notebook, the edges frayed and the color fading. She flips to the back, almost to the last page, and draws the shape of a star, her hand trembling.

And Puck pulls his wife to his chest and lets her cry, and whispers, "I know."


End file.
